


Fixed

by angstbot



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Swen, swan queen - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 16:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7275112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstbot/pseuds/angstbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina's love letter to Emma's love for Regina</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixed

Emma had an oral fixation.

Or, that’s what Regina would say if she bought into Freudian claptrap. (Twenty-eight years of nothing happening gave one quite a lot of time to read.)

Above and beyond the way Emma ate with relish, the sheriff was constantly putting things into into her mouth. She chewed her pens until the queen fretted about the state of her teeth. She bit her nails.  Sometimes paperclips or other random objects would make their way between her lips if she was concentrating on something else and not paying attention. It was all terribly unsanitary and uncivilized, Regina insisted if asked, though privately she found it endearing.

Emma put every bit of Regina into her mouth, too.

The savior sucked on her fingertips, swirled her tongue around them, bit them ever so slightly. She did this absentmindedly only once, when they were snuggled up for movie night with the lights off, Regina wrapped around and their fingers intertwined against Emma’s sternum. The queen had been startled at first, then increasingly aroused. Her clit was throbbing by the time the movie ended. Emma had been happy to suck on that too, of course.

And oh, Emma loved to kiss. Sweet good morning kisses. Playful, goofy kisses. Slow, adoring kisses. Hungry, passionate kisses. After their first date, when they had kissed for literal hours and Regina woke up with her lips literally bruised, she had learned to ration it, to coax Emma’s so-wonderful mouth elsewhere, just for a rest.

The sheriff would lavish kisses on her knuckles, flicker her tongue on the webbing between her fingers, gnaw on her wrist bone. She dwelled for long moments tracing the palm of Regina’s hand with her lips, staring up at her. Emma would suck at the inside of the queen’s wrist, the inside of her elbow, her elbow itself—which was far less strange than Regina would have thought.

Sometimes Emma was all teeth on Regina’s bicep, tricep, shoulder and collarbone. Sometimes she was all tongue, tracing her ear, jaw, lips, scar. One day the progress of her mouth would be slow worship and the next, the most demanding hunger.

But any way she approached Regina’s body, Emma was nothing if not thorough. The queen was intimately familiar with the feeling of the savior’s mouth on her toes and insteps and ankles and the soles of her feet. She knew nipping at shin and calf and knee and she knew the laving of a slow tongue up her thigh and along her hipbone. She was no stranger, indeed, to the feeling of Emma’s tongue up her ass—and had been startled to discover she enjoyed it, though she was too fastidious to let her do it without latex, showered or not. It was good because it was intimate and erotic, much like when Emma sucked at the slight bumps made by her spine.

Emma lingered longest where Regina gasped and sighed and moaned the most, wanting to coax every sound from her throat. And so, if Regina let her, she’d cover her neck with hickeys. And so, if Regina let her, she’d suck her nipples sore. Sometimes, Regina did let her.

It wasn’t that Emma _couldn’t_ have an orgasm without Regina in her mouth. But she did very, _very_ much prefer to have them that way, whether her lips-tongue-teeth were wrapped around the queen’s fingers, shoulder, tongue, or cunt. The savior did very, _very_ much come harder that way. Regina very, _very_ much preferred _that_.

And oh- oh- oh- the way she tongued Regina’s cunt. When Emma bent her over and licked her from behind, she was demanding. She’d fuck her with her tongue, flutter the tip under her hood, suck her clit hard, holding her unyieldingly even as the queen’s knees shook and her hips twitched. The power of her in those moments, the way Emma _took_ her pleasure unapologetically, hungrily, was impossibly better than her touch itself.

Those times when Emma pleaded with eyes or words for Regina to sit on her face, she was needy. She’d wrap her arms around Regina’s thighs and spread her open with her fingers to tongue every curve and plane of her. She was eager, greedy, humming, keeping her in place with the magnetic desire in those bright green eyes rather than the strength of her biceps. Emma’s hunger, her whimpers and moans of pure pleasure just at _touching_ Regina, the way her eyes would sometimes roll back into her head or flutter shut at the mere sensation of the queen in her mouth—she wanted to ride her face forever.

Some nights, Emma put Regina on her back and devoured her relentlessly. She’d drag Regina’s thighs over her shoulders, sometimes lifting her back partially off the bed in blinding _need_ to get her in her mouth, and it was so good. It was in these sessions that the savior would use a most unusual technique, sliding one arm over the queen’s hip to catch her cunt between thumb and forefinger, pinching, pulling, rolling, adding waves of sensation to the demanding motion of her tongue.

These were encounters when Emma laved and licked and lapped, rolled her tongue and sucked Regina’s clit and rubbed her face in her wetness. She’d growl out her desire and tongue her until Regina had to gasp out that she’d reached her limit and shove her face away as forcefully as rubbery limbs would allow.

Each way that Emma touched her was electric, intense, and thoroughly satiating. They were attuned in many ways, and sexuality was as surely one of them as magic.

But from time to time the sex would become something else entirely.

On her knees at Regina’s feet, Emma looked like an angel with that golden halo of hair, and if an angel was worshiping her, who could Regina be but God herself? In these moments, there was no other term for the intensity and thoroughness of the savior’s devotion than making love. Emma would look up at her adoringly as she nuzzled her thighs and kissed along where Regina’s leg met her body, and Regina would cup her cheek as she looked back with complete wonder that anyone could love her like this.

Emma began by kissing her cunt hello, closed-mouthed and gentle and affectionate. The savior made very certain to trace each fold with her tongue and then suck them, rememorizing Regina’s body each and every time even as she drove her nearly out of her mind with desire and her fingertips threaded through silky blonde locks, resisting the urge to pull.

And when, at long last, Emma would touch her directly, it would be almost unbearably lingering, long, slow, swipes with a flat tongue for so long that Regina was ready to demand. Only then, just before it would tip over into too much, would Emma’s uncanny sense lead her to change her caress to swirls on the queen’s clit that sent sensation racing through her body so exquisite it, too, almost hurt. But it filled her heart with joy so much more strongly, and the emotion and the pleasure spiraled up, feeding one another, until she would reach a pinnacle more intense than at any other time.

There were always tears in both their eyes after sessions like these.

Emma would murmur “I love you”s into Regina’s skin as she gathered her up into her arms, eventually pressing her lips against her shoulder as she settled in to sleep. It was tender and should have been sickly sweet. Certainly, both of them would have found it intolerable earlier in lives full of disappointment and pain. But here, now, they had earned it, with every time they had saved one another, worked together, cracked open their chests and been honest. They had painstakingly fixed those wounds that others had inflicted—that they’d inflicted on one another. They had done the work.

Regina was damned if she wasn’t going to enjoy it.


End file.
